


Here and Now

by Enchantable



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Amputation, Body Worship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Scars, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-24 23:57:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/946226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a long time Max is his only anchor. Even now he forgets that sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here and Now

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Um, not sure if it's a prompt you'd remotely be interested in, but a Chuck/Mako/Raleigh fic in where Chuck is a bit self-conscious about his scars from the Breach closing?

His shirt is gone when he comes out of the shower.

Chuck bites back a curse as he casts his eyes around the bathroom. His towel’s hanging up on his hook but his other clothes are gone. He curses again and grabs his towel, wrapping it around himself. He ignores the steam fogged mirror as he looks at the other two hooks which are absent of towels. He shoves open the door and glares at the dark bobbed head which is bent over the desk, Max’s legs hanging off her lap.

"Where the hell is my shirt?" he demands.

"Halfway through the rinse cycle," Mako replies making another mark on the paper in front of her before lowering her Pen.

"Don’t turn around!" He orders, grabbing the first shirt he can find and throwing it on before looking for his other clothes and stalking in to the bathroom.

When he comes out Raleigh’s setting the laundry basket on the floor. He does laundry, Chuck cleans and Mako organizes. They all have their roles in the three person room they share. Right now though Chuck doesn’t give a shit about their jobs or the fact that every Tuesday is laundry day. He shoots Raleigh a death glare as he drops on to his bottom bunk and smacks his thigh.

Max slides off Mako’s lap and lumbers up the stairs next to his bed, curling next to him. Chuck drops his arm from over his eyes to the dog’s head as Max changes position and settles his front half on top of his chest. He ignores the silent exchange going on above his head, forcing himself not to think about stupid drift partners and that dumb way they can talk without words. 

"Would you two shut up?" he snarls, angling his head back to glare at them. 

"Sorry," Raleigh says stepping in before Mako can open her mouth, "laundry’s almost done."

 

"I don’t give a shit," he snaps. 

Raleigh raises his eyebrows at Chuck returns the look tenfold as Mako turns her chair to face them. Chuck knows he’s being petulant, really he does. But he doesn’t care. He can feel how hot the back of his neck is and everything in him wants to run from his—their—room. Wants to go back into that quiet corner. Except he can settle for being disgustingly embarrassed but he can’t stomach the idea of being such a damn coward. He doesn’t run away, he’s not going to run away. Even if he has to use his dog as an anchor to stay there.

Their silent exchange starts up again and his fingers dig in to the folds of Max’s skin. Which, for better or worse, is something the dog loves and he rolls over, sticking out his paws. Chuck’s hand moves seamlessly with the dog and rubs along his belly. He focuses just on petting the dog as Raleigh goes out to put the laundry in the dryer. Finally Mako exhales softly. 

"He didn’t mean to upset you," she says. 

"I’m not upset," Chuck snaps back earning a delicate arch of her eyebrow, "I’m not—" he begins going to push himself up, "damn it!" he snarls and Mako goes to push herself up, "I’m fine!" he practically screams at her. 

She moves her hands to the side in a show of surrender as he nudges Max aside and twists to push himself up. Raleigh comes back in with the basket of laundry and looks between the two of them. He’s the oldest but at the sight of the pair of them he looks positively ancient. Chuck’s hand stills at his chest. He looks down at the floor angrily, biting the inside of his cheek as that disgusting feeling churns in his gut. 

He hates moments like this.

He’s not strong enough in moments like this. Never is. His body’s shot and his mind’s only slightly better. All his hair isn’t even grown back yet and only his panic attacks have kept him from still being in the medical wing. Raleigh drops on to the bed next to him and Chuck’s glare turns positively venomous but the older pilot is not easily affected. Not anymore anyway. 

"Want me to take a look?"

"It’s fine," Chuck snaps back, his voice low and angry, "they said there was nothing they could do."

The words are bitter in his mouth and he hates how easily they come. Raleigh presses his shoulder to his, ignores the tension that locks through Chuck’s body as their wrists touch then Raleigh’s hand continues while his ends in a smooth curve of skin. His chest isn’t much better, all dark angry lines from his suit and the surgery afterwards. Those are never going to go away.

He tries not to think of them as a sign of failure. Warriors have scars. But he’s never had them before, not with this scale. It’s not the pain that gets him, he’s used to pain. It’s the weakness that gets him. The helplessness. If he covers himself up, if he holds himself steady, then he can pretend the world is as it should be. 

He’s still glaring ahead as Mako gets to her feet and comes over, slipping behind Raleigh. Her shoulder presses to his back as she takes over petting Max. Her weigh presses in to him but he doesn’t fight her off. She doesn’t weigh much and he can at least press back against her without making a total fool of himself. 

He stiffens as Raleigh’s hand skims his wrist. His touch his slow and purposeful and Chuck knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he can pull away and Raleigh will let him. But he doesn’t. Raleigh’s thumb curves around the edges of where his hand ends and he pushes himself back against Mako’s warm weight. His eyes are locked on the empty sleeve that covers his bandages. Raleigh presses a little firmer and he lets out a harsh breath. He shakes his head at Raleigh’s gaze and the other pilot continues. 

He feels Mako’s fingers on the nape of his neck. His head moves forward as she echoes Raleigh’s movements on his wrist. One hurts, one doesn’t but they both feel good in their own ways. Raleigh’s hand finally clasps over the bandages, closing it entirely in his palm. Chuck closes his eyes because he can feel the pain everywhere at the pressure against the still healing bandage. 

His eyes are closed and his focus is entirely on the pain. Dimly he’s aware that Mako’s hand has left his head. A moment later he feels her lips on his neck. Raleigh shifts on the bed, his hands still wrapped around his wrist. Mako pulls back as the older pilot kisses him in that slow, hard way that makes it very hard for Chuck to think properly. 

"What—"

Raleigh silences him with another kiss as Mako’s hand slips under his shirt and her thumb brushes the scars there. 

Max isn’t his only anchor anymore.


End file.
